


Forest Expertise

by Emma_Cresswell



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Anxiety, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, It's kinda sad, Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 14:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10618839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emma_Cresswell/pseuds/Emma_Cresswell
Summary: How Evan came to like trees so much.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, first of all, I need to explain that I've only ever listened to the obcr. Maybe Evan's obsession with trees is explained in the musical, but I haven't seen it. Therefore, this fanfic was created. So, sorry if this is against canon. Second of all, wHY DOES NO ONE TALK ABOUT LITTLE EVAN'S INTEREST IN TRUCKS. Therefore, that is also brought up in this fic.  
> Title from "Sincerely, Me"  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Dear Evan Hansen.

At first, it was trucks. Even as a little kid, Evan would perk up at the sound of a truck rolling down his street. Always running to the window to see if he could catch a glimpse of it before it drove away.

Evan had his own truck. It was a small, plastic dump truck that he got for his fourth birthday. It wasn’t very big, and it didn’t look as nice as it once did after years of use. But it was still a good truck. Often times, Evan would drive his little truck down the road of the kitchen’s hardwood floor. Sometimes, when Mommy wasn’t busy, she would get another one of Evan’s plastic trucks and they would race them down the driveway. 

Daddy had a truck, too. It was bigger than Evan’s. Much bigger. It was black and shiny and Evan absolutely loved it. Sometimes, if Evan had been a good boy during the week, Daddy would let Evan help him wash the big, black truck on the weekends. 

“Real men always keep their vehicle clean,” Daddy would always explain as he helped Evan rinse the hubcaps in soap. Evan didn’t exactly know what that meant, but he was happy enough helping his dad, so he just nodded along.

Of course, things changed as the years came and left. Evan still loved trucks, and his dad must’ve still loved them too because he spent a lot of time driving in his. Mommy still liked trucks too, but she hardly ever raced trucks with Evan anymore. She was too busy working. But sometimes she would smile and tell Evan that she would play with him later. He always waited for later to roll around, but it never seemed to come.

And then, one brisk February morning, Evan woke to a large truck in his driveway. He was ecstatic, watching from the front porch as Daddy and some other men loaded boxes into the back of the truck. After all, there was a real truck in his driveway. The biggest one he’d ever seen.

He asked Mommy if he could sit in the front seat. Mommy looked a bit sad, but she managed a smile and told him to ask Daddy. 

Daddy said it was okay, so he and Mommy helped him up into the big, leather seat of the truck. Evan could hardly contain his excitement as his small fingers gripped the steering wheel. Here he was, sitting in the front seat of a real live truck. It was definitely better than steering his little, plastic truck down the floor of the kitchen.

But then, the sun began to set and Mommy explained that it was time to go inside. Evan watched from the front window as the truck drove away, and along with it, his dad.

Evan didn’t like trucks as much after that. Not only because of the constant paranoia that his mom would one day decide that he wasn’t good enough and drive away in a truck of her own, but because he had changed. He was quiet and shy, a kid who often faded into the background. Trucks were loud and big and the opposite of Evan. They didn’t quite suit him anymore. Eventually, his little, plastic truck ended up in a cardboard box of junk to be donated.

For a while, Evan floated between interests. Nothing really seemed to strike his fancy. But that was fine, he didn’t need an obsession like his truck phase.

But Mom was a bit worried about his lack of interest in anything. And so was his therapist. Evan had been seeing him for a year when his doctor brought up the idea of a hobby. His therapist explained that having an interest in something would fill up the empty space in his thoughts, making it harder for his anxiety to creep in. 

So, Evan determined that he would find something he liked. He wasn’t quite sure how much it would help, but at least it would get his Mom off his case for a while. 

He would often go to the park to see if he could figure it out, trying out a variety of activities. But birdwatching got tiresome after a bit, frisbee was too exhausting. He didn’t even want to think about talking to strangers. So, he would usually spend his summer afternoons climbing trees to watch the world from above.

It was during one of these afternoon expeditions that it occurred to him. Evan had always liked climbing trees. The borders of his elementary school property had been full of trees. When it had become adamant that other children thought he was weird, Evan spent the duration of his recesses in the topmost branches of oak trees. He would sometimes play a game with himself to see how many trees he could identify.

But then he entered middle school and there weren’t any trees there. Not to mention that the other kids would probably make fun of him if they saw him climb a tree. After all, it was a “little kid” thing to do. So, it had been a year or so since Evan played his little game of tree naming. But what was keeping him from doing so now?

Evan tried out the whole tree thing. At first, he treated it like any other therapy homework assignment. However, he actually found that he thoroughly enjoyed it. He had checked out a few field guides from the library, but soon found that they weren’t as detailed as he needed and quickly exchanged them for more professional ones. The rest of that summer was spent combing the park for certain trees, seeing how many he could name. 

He became a bit of an expert when it came to vegetation. Maybe it was a bit odd that a young teenager would get excited about the seed germination process, but his therapist had been right. A hobby had made Evan’s anxiety a little easier to bear.

The only thing that would’ve made it better is if he had a friend to share his forest expertise with. Someone who would climb trees with him, someone who would listen as Evan explained how much carbon dioxide the average blue spruce consumed. 

Sure, there was his mom. But, well, she was Mom. Anyhow, she was too busy working to listen to Evan’s tree rants. And then there was Jared, but he rolled his eyes anytime Evan started talking about the varieties of lodgepole pine trees. Evan took it that Jared didn’t particularly care for lodgepole pines. 

It was okay, though. Evan determined that he would eventually find someone who would be as interested in trees as he was. But until then, it was just him and his forest expertise. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed. Kudos/comments give me life and energy, so it'd be nice if you left one. But, of course, you can choose what you want to do.


End file.
